


The Last Weary Way

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, Mindless Self Indulgence, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Introducing the House: Finding Lost Ways Since 1777.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Weary Way

It was nearly midnight when Gerard ran out of gas. It was stupid of him—he hadn't been paying attention to the needle, too busy singing along with Queen and trying to come up with dance moves that he could do without running himself off the road. When the car stuttered to a grinding halt all he managed to do for a minute was blink, feeling a little offended that he had been betrayed so unexpectedly. He checked his phone, but there was no reception, and he groaned, sliding out of his car. He was a on a dark, country road, with no streetlights, the road bordered on either side with hedges.

Gerard checked his phone for a final time and then put it back in his pocket. "This is what horror movies are made of," he informed the dark, and set off walking up the road.

He hadn't been walking for very long when he reached the first sign. It was shaped like a huge, wooden arrow pointing further up the road, and said only, _LOST YOUR WAY?_ Gerard slid his sunglasses up on top of his head to stare for a moment, before shrugging and continuing up the road. The night was warm and still, and there was a huge, round harvest moon in the sky above him, looking almost orange against the black. If this was a horror movie, it wasn't a very atmospheric one.

The second sign didn't seem like it was very far away from the first, but when Gerard peered back over his shoulder, he couldn't see the original one anymore. He must have turned a bend without paying attention. The second sign was pretty much to the first, a large wooden arrow, only this one said, _NO NEED TO WORRY!_ Gerard kept walking, and passed the third sign – _THE HOUSE IS NEARBY_ – and the fourth – _FINDING LOST WAYS SINCE 1777_ – in quick succession.

He was so preoccupied with looking out for the next sign, bemused and delighted by the whole thing, that he almost missed the driveway, would have missed it entirely if it wasn't for the sudden crunch of white pebbles underfoot, startlingly different to the smooth asphalt. He turned, and looked down the long, white path to the house that loomed up at the end of it, dark and just a little creepy. After a moment's hesitation, and once he'd made sure that his phone still didn't have any reception, he set down the drive, dwarfed by the tall hedges growing on either side of him.

A wrought iron gate finally pulled him up short. Through the gate he could see a garden bathed in moonlight, the warm yellow moon shining down on a collection of cold, white statues, leading on either side of the path up to a foreboding door set above six stone steps. Gerard chewed his lip and bounced awkwardly from foot to foot, unsure for a moment. It didn't look particularly welcoming. Abruptly, an iron plaque set into the gate caught his attention. It said simply, _House of Lost Ways_.

When Gerard pressed his hand carefully to the cold iron, it swung open on silent hinges immediately, letting him in. He passed down the path, shrinking a little under the blind gaze of the statues, and climbed timidly up the stairs. He hesitated for another long moment, thought _I won't go in if anyone looks too much like an axe murderer_ , and then tapped on the door three times with the heavy knocker.

Behind him, there was a shattering sound, and Gerard spun around in shock to see one of the statues shaking off shards of plaster. She groaned, stretching and dusting flakes of white dust out of her hair. She had been one of the mystical looking statues, wearing a toga with her hands clasped at her chest and her face lifted to the moon; now, she was wearing a tartan pair of pants that she pulled higher up her hips, wiggling enthusiastically, and a black t-shirt with a tie that clashed horribly with the pants. There was a pair of drumsticks jammed in her back pocket. Gerard was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open.

The ex-statue jogged up towards him, still apparently stretching the kinks out of her back. "You'll have to knock louder than that," she said. "Tuesday is Jimmy's Musical Experiment Extravaganza Evening."

"Um," Gerard said, still staring at her. "I don't mean to be rude, but are you a statue?"

"Only some of the time," she told him. "Go on, try it again."

After a couple of seconds, Gerard turned back to the door and banged on it once more, much louder this time, with all the strength he had.

The woman rolled her eyes and took a step back, cupping her hands around her mouth. " _LIN_ dsey!" she bellowed. "There's one of yours down here!"

For a moment there was only silence in the night; then Gerard heard clomping footsteps approach quickly, with a galloping rhythm like they were coming down a flight of stairs. The door was flung open and a woman with heavy combats, a chequered mini-skirt and a broad grin stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. She looked like she was trying to hold back laughter.

"I _thought_ it was about time one of you showed up," she said, and ran her eyes over Gerard in a delighted manner. "Though to be perfectly honest, I kind of thought it would be your brother first."

Gerard blinked at her, not quite sure what to say. The woman's – Lindsey's – smile only broadened, though, and she said, without looking away from Gerard, "Kitty, there's pizza in the kitchen if you're hungry."

"Fuckin' A," the ex-statue said fervently, and pushed past them, disappearing down the house's winding corridor.

"Um, I'm Gerard," Gerard finally said, and offered his hand, feeling a little stupid.

"Lindsey Ballato," she said, shaking his hand with a dry, firm grip. "Nice to meet you."

"My car broke down," Gerard said, gesturing helplessly behind him. "I mean, I ran out of gas, a little way down the road, and I was wondering if you had any spare, or even a phone—"

"We have both," Lindsey said, stepping aside a little. "Come on in. D'you want a drink?"

"Uh," Gerard began. Lindsey spoke over the top of him.

"We have juice, Coke, mineral water, tea, and hot chocolate," she said, ticking them off on her fingers. "Oh, and coffee, if it's not too late for you."

"It's _never_ too late," Gerard said fervently, and Lindsey smirked knowingly at him. Gerard stared at her in confusion, wondering exactly what kind of crazy he had wandered into, but he followed when she led the way down a corridor. She didn't seem particularly dangerous, anyway; she looked over her shoulder now and again to make sure Gerard was following, and every time gave him a surprisingly sweet smile.

They emerged in a kitchen, though there was no sign of Kitty, or pizza. Lindsey started fiddling about with a coffee pot on the stove, and Gerard looked around himself in astonishment. The kitchen was well-lit and pretty normal, down to the pile of greasy dishes in the sink and the fridge with a note taped to it that said _ALL JIMMY'S, KEEP OUT!_ Gerard was maybe a little disappointed. It didn't look anywhere near as creepy and mysterious as it had on the outside, and Lindsey herself looked like a perfectly normal hot girl making him coffee. Which, okay, maybe not quite so normal, rockstar or not, but Gerard thought his confusion was fair.

"What _is_ this place?" he asked.

Lindsey turned around and grinned at him. "The House of Lost Ways," she said. "Didn't you read the signs?"

"Yeah," Gerard said. "But I don't really know what any of them _mean_."

"Oh," Lindsey said. She handed Gerard a coffee cup that had been decorated with what looked like a lot of glitter glue, full of coffee just the way Gerard liked it. She picked up her own coffee and linked her free arm with Gerard's. "Let me show you," she said.

She led him into yet another corridor, though this one was brighter and much more cheerful. The walls were lined with portrait after portrait, some painted, some sketched, some photographed; some in bright colours, others black and white. They all featured Lindsey, and one other person. All of their faces looked vaguely familiar.

Gerard stopped in front of the seventh one along, gaping. "That's Mikey!" he said. Mikey was wearing a huge, thick pair of glasses that Gerard didn't recognise, but it was unmistakeably him, standing dolefully next to a beaming Lindsey with her thumbs up.

"Nuh-uh," Lindsey said, shaking her head. "That's your great-great-great uncle." Gerard turned and boggled politely at her. She shrugged. "Didn't you see the sign? We've been doing this for generations."

"Doing _what_?" Gerard asked. He had a feeling he was flailing a bit, but couldn't bring himself to care.

"Looking after lost Ways," Lindsey said, shrugging, and at last, at _last_ Gerard heard the capital in the right spot. "You must admit you guys have a bit of a tendency for it."

Gerard flailed some more. "But that photo!" he said, gesturing at the one that looked like Mikey. "It's – that has to have been taken with a digital camera!"

"Yeah," Lindsey agreed. "We're kind of, uh, fluid? In space and time, I mean. We crop up where we're needed."

Gerard eyed her warily. "So you're not immortal or something then?" he asked.

"Oh, no," Lindsey said, and laughed. "No, I'm thirty." She paused. "Would you like some more coffee?"

*

"Cheese!" Lindsey said, arm wrapped around Gerard's neck, lips squished into a ridiculous pout, flashing the enormous, nineteenth century camera a peace signal, and Gerard couldn't help but grin as the flash went off. From upstairs, there came another loud honk, and Gerard jumped for the eighth time in a row. Lindsey, who had given up on not laughing at him approximately six jumps ago, giggled over the coffee cup she picked up, and Gerard smiled sheepishly at her.

"Musical Experiment Extravaganza Evening?" Gerard asked, remembering Kitty's words.

"Every Tuesday," Lindsey confirmed, nodding. "You're lucky you _did_ turn up on a Tuesday. They'd be all over you otherwise and to be honest, honey, I'm not sure you could handle them."

"Are they all statues sometimes?" Gerard asked, and Lindsey laughed. Lindsey laughed a lot. Gerard liked it.

"Oh, no, only Kitty," she said. "Steve's a werewolf on occasion, but he's a vegetarian, so it's kind of pointless. I don't know why he bothers."

"It doesn't really sound like something you can or can't be bothered with," Gerard said, frowning. "I mean, traditionally, isn't being a werewolf involuntary?"

"We don't worry much about traditions here," Lindsey said. Gerard really hated movies or comics or whatever that thought they could reinvent the classics – fucking True Blood – but Lindsey was still smiling, and Gerard thought that he didn't mind so much after all.

"What do you worry about?" he asked instead, and Lindsey shrugged, even as she looked strangely mournful.

"Not much," she said. "We're kind of apart from most things here. We just wait for you guys to show up so we can point you homeward."

"Sounds really sad," Gerard said softly. When Lindsey didn't say anything, he asked, "Is it only ever Ways who come here?"

"Most of the time," she said. "Every now and then we get someone looking for a Way, though. The last one, he was about… four years ago? Looking for you, actually. Kind of smelly. Jimmy liked him."

"Smelly?" Gerard repeated.

"Yeah, you know," Lindsey said. "Greasy black hair. There was this bitchy blond dude with him, too. Goddamnit, _what_ was his name?"

Gerard's heart felt a little wonky in his chest; still beating, just with a crooked rhythm. "Bert," he said. "His name was Bert."

"That's the one," Lindsey said. "He ever find you?"

"Not really," Gerard said.

Lindsey looked at him kindly, with such warmth that he couldn't help but smile back at her. "Hey," she said. "You want me to take you home?"

Gerard breathed in and looked up. "Can you get me to Mikey's place?" he asked.

"That's what I meant," Lindsey said.

She took Gerard down a long series of twisting hallways, talking cheerfully about the different rooms of the house that they passed: which one they were pretty sure a ghost lived in, which one they had nearly burned down with an impromptu bonfire. Gerard found himself only half listening, though, suddenly tired, his feet aching like he had walked miles. Lindsey fell back next to him and linked their arms together. "Sorry," she said. "It's a side effect of the house. It's had a lot of tired Ways through here, and you can't help but be affected."

"Okay," Gerard said, too exhausted to think of anything else. They pulled up in front of a green door, though, and suddenly he felt fine again. Lindsey opened it, and Gerard stared in mild disbelief out onto Mikey's front lawn. "Wow," he said, and then, noticing his own car parked neatly in the driveway, " _Wow_."

Lindsey laughed, and hugged him tight. She was a really awesome huger. "Safe journey, Gee," she said. "It was nice meeting you."

Gerard looked at her shyly. "Could I maybe come back and visit you sometime?" he asked. Lindsey beamed, and Gerard thought, _you don't know the half of it_. My Chem were about to go on tour again, and he'd _liked_ the sounds coming from upstairs. Probably Brian would be mildly disconcerted to hear that Gerard wanted them to have a semi-magical opener, but he'd deal.

"I would like that very much," Lindsey said, rocking up and down on her heels. "I don't think you'll have much trouble finding us, anyway. All you have to do is not find anything else."

Gerard stepped down onto the grass, and turned to where the doorway hung in the air, fading slowly from sight. "And not get in trouble while I'm lost, I guess," he said, and Lindsey smiled.

"Don't worry," she said, fading away into the night. "We've got your back."


End file.
